


Recording Process for (S)he's My Collar

by Ynnep48



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2doc - Freeform, 2docweek2017, Cute Ending, Gay, Gorillaz - Freeform, Healing, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Past Abuse, Song Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11116356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ynnep48/pseuds/Ynnep48
Summary: Murdoc wants to write and record a song about his and 2d's relationship (again) and the others are here to help!





	Recording Process for (S)he's My Collar

**Author's Note:**

> A vaguely 2doc fic, written for 2doc week. Hope y'all like it. Nothing original here, just a bit of fun.

 

“DO YOUR FUCKING JOB, 2D!!”

 

“Now, th-this is why I don't like working with you.”

 

“I don't care! Everyone else is waiting to sodding record. So sing the damn vocals!”

 

 

Our story has already opened on the recording set of Humanz. Two British men are fighting over the production of their next song while their co-workers just watched. Half enjoying the familiar _visceral response_ it gave them and half annoyed as hell.

 

 

“Alright, just stop yelling at me! Start the...the music again.” 2d was working on just breathing as his band mate started up a funky beat.

 

 

The gang was all here, watching with baited breath. Russel, the no longer giant and best friend that anyone could ask for. Noodle, the best thing this world could ever create. Damon Albarn and half of The Clash were also there with their interns. Then, there was Murdoc with his big nose and peculiarly mild attitude that he was sporting these days. The beat was reaching a swell, signaling it was time for young Stu-Pot to chime in.

 

 

“If I could take him down and run, then I'd call 'em—c-cause he's stand'n dr-” His voice was cracking, throwing off the whole song. “D-drama...he knows I'll...call him...fuck.”

 

 

The others all cringed at the return of his anemic speaking voice. Murdoc smashed the pause button so hard, it almost broke his nail.

 

 

“What is wrong with you today!!? This is OUR damn song, 2d! You wrote more than half of it! You've sung it fine in rehearsal—AAAARUGH!” The old man, kicked over his tiny chair but then immediately picked it up again. “Sorry.” When 2d just stared at them in confusion, it dawned that Murdoc forgot to press speak. “He didn't even hear any of that, did he?”

 

 

Mick Jones and Paul Simonon just shook their heads in unison in response, making the Satanist just groan even more. The had all been there since noon and the sun was already setting outside. Or so they assumed after spending six hours in a recording studio with Murdoc's rancid ass.

 

 

Russel pressed the talk button, along with several others, to rally his younger band-mate. “You can do this, D. Just try to have fun and feel the emotion the song. Feel it in your soul.”

 

 

“Thanks Russ.” The frail man scratched his neck a few times. “It's just...this song feels a bit personal for me to sing aloud, man. Ah mean, mentions of the stuff me and Murdoc went through...hook ups and collars...is this really our fink-er-think—thing?” He was tongue tied again.

 

Murdoc just about blew out the microphones with his high-pitch screech. “YOU'VE SUNG WORSE THAN THAN THIS! I'VE SUNG WORSE THAN THIS! I'VE DONE WORSE THAN THIS! WE'VE DONE WORSE THAN THIS! NOODLE---I hope has not done worse than this. We know, Russel has.” More breathing exercises ensued so that he could just talk normally. “This is part of our bloody story! Just told in a sexier way. Now just try, try, trrrrryyyyyyy to take this seriously!”

 

 

The others were trying not to laugh. The thought of any single one of them being shy about this subject matter was positively hilarious. This was supposed to be a song about the years just before and after Plastic Beach. During more tumultuous but less violent points in their journey together. All leading up to where they were now. It barely even covered the more fucked up years in their 'relationship' or whatever you would call it. Murdoc himself, chose to omit a lot of that and infuse some sex appeal because that's just how he handled shit. That and enough liquor to fill a small elephant.

 

Murdoc was rubbing his throat, not used to screaming as much these days. Also, years of drinking has royally fucked up his throat. What could he do to coax his mate into song? From what he could remember, 2d was too stupid to get stage fright. There must be something else bothering him. In a softer voice, he asked Noodle something.

 

 

“Noodle, can you go wait in the hall?”

 

“Hm? Why me?” She cocked her head as her chair with her on it, was wheeled out.

 

“I have a theory. He still see's you as a child and that's holding him back. Just let me try this okay? I'll call you when he's done.”

 

“Ahhhh, got it.”

 

 

They began the melody again, gave him the cues and waited. It seemed to work. 2d was starting to move with the beat and channel his inner Tom Cruise. Specifically, Tom Cruise from Tropic Thunder. Those black eyes shot open, he grabbed the microphone and let out a panties dropping first verse.

 

 

“If I could take 'em down and run, then I'd call 'em.” He paused for just the right amount of emphasis. “Cause he's standing drama, he knows I'll call 'em.”

 

 

Magic was forming! 2d was doing some weird shit with his mic stand but that was normal for him. He was doing that sexy as hell whisper-sing into the mic. Perfect. This is what they waited all day for.

 

“I don't take his number, just don't think I'd call 'em. I take him down to somewhere drea-” The voice crack again, right when he noticed the others were watching him too close.

 

“That's it. Damon Albarn and 50% of The Clash, get the FUCK OUTTA 'ER!”

 

 

“Why do we haf'ta leave, ya tosser?” Damon was personally offended.

 

“Because you're freaking out the Gorillaz front man! Do you want a hit song or not!?”

 

 

Murdoc was grabbing the posh man by his jacket. Things were getting kind of intense in that tiny room. All the yelling, waiting, foul odors and frustration was weighing on Albarn's last nerve. Murdoc and the Gorillaz live band have not gotten along too well since the touring mix up. Were they going to throw down? The others were ready to step in, if needed. Thankfully. Damon and half of The Clash backed down instead.

 

 

“Alright then~!” His tone picked up. “Ready to rock out with our knobs out?”

 

 

2d was rocking in a corner while Russel just looked on with concern. One by one, Murdoc sent everyone out of the room except for himself. Even Russel and the interns were out of the room. Murdoc hard to figure or the equipment all over again after so many years. Nothing changed. Same shit, different verse.

 

 

“Alright...it's just us. The ones that wrote the damn song. The ones that liiiived the song. Now will you just sing for me? Pleeeeassseee?”

 

“I'm trying.” 2d twiddled his thumbs.

 

“Can you remember the lyrics?”

 

“Yes.” Now he sounded annoyed. “Just start the sodding song again. I'm ready.”

 

 

Murdoc pressed play, one more time. This time, they got through the whole piece but something sounded just wrong. Forced and almost empty inside. Not unlike the sullen tones he had on Plastic Beach. When he was being held against his will and brutalized on the regular. A small twinge of guilt sprung up in Murdoc's rotten heart.

 

 

“Is it me?” The goblin finally questioned.

 

“Maybe. Ah don't think Ah can do this.”

 

“Wiiiillll a blowy change your mind?” His one visible eyebrow wiggled.

 

2d's neck was starting to feel far too hot. “C-can I try recording alone for a while?”

 

“Someone has to man this helm, kid.” A loud gesture to the Sound Room all around him.

 

“Can I just do it in my room? Like, you record the others and I do this on my own? It worked on the last albums.” He was getting more nervous as Murdoc came in to the booth with him.

 

“Yeah, fine. You can do that.” He pulled a device out of his back pocket. “Here! Take my Dictaphone and go sing like you're not dead inside.” An affirming pat on the back, finished his sentence.

 

 

2d wasn't sure how to take this much more agreeable version of Murdoc. An almost pleasant variant of the monster he knew for half his life. One that yelled, picked on him and still was an arsehole but did not try to manipulate him with violence or beat his ass for fun. Stuart took the outdated bit of machinery, clutching it to his chest.

 

 

“I'll have it ready by morning. You can count on me.”

 

“I know.” A gentle sigh, accompanied by a hand on those thin shoulders. “You're the reason I stopped doing hard drugs and considered doing them again.” His dingy, sharp teeth poked out of his grin. “Now fuck off.”

 

 

Murdoc gave the skinny man a firm slap on the ass and sent him on his way. Our favorite blue haired cockney retreated to his room at their hotel. The first thing he did was drop his pants at the door. After chain smoking for half an hour and drinking all the fruit punch in the fridge, he went to the bathroom to empty said punch. Time to record! After warming up his vocals and texting the others some words of encouragement, he was ready. 2d read over the lyrics that he and Murdoc wrote out over the course of nine days. This was the story of their more private relationship. Ever since the later years of 2007 until now. Skipping the more traumatizing parts that have long since become vague memories. Perhaps, that was what helped him forgive the old gherkin. Not remembering all the horrible shit he did and focusing on the good and the future. Probably not the healthiest way of thinking but it worked. All those feelings of anxiety and hatred melted away as he read the lyrics. Even in such messy hand writing. Thank God, he had the typed version from Noodle. It even had Noodle notes.

 

_//Pronounce all hims as 'em and drop hard R sounds to make them roll better//_

//If I could take him down and run, then I'd call him//  
'Cause he's standing drama, he knows I'll call him  
He's getting on the tower and that he ordered  
Imagine me, imagine me now  
I don't take his number, just don't think I'd call him  
He take me down to somewhere I been dreading all day  
In my system, I don't need no other  
This is my persona, secret lover (he's my collar)  
Nothing to be justified in  
Just something, you should feel nada  
I know he lies, I know he's my caller  
I sense him in my mind, he's my collar

He's my serpentine, he's my collar  
I send a message never call him  
And now I wanna taste another  
And it's safe in a persona, he's my collar  
Nothing to be justified yet  
He's the first I'm running with  
He's the one that gets my collar  
He's the one I'm running with x4 (he's my collar)

He's my collar

_//Murdoc's “lines”//_

I'm green and he was blue  
It's nothing that we could hide  
We made agreement though  
Whenever we would collide  
I died a thousand times  
I did what I had to do  
Hey, that's just how it goes  
I'm still coming back for you

_//Murdoc's “lines” thankfully end//_

If I could take him down and run, then I'd call him (you, you, you)  
'Cause he's falling drama, he knows I'll call him (M: you, you, 2, you)  
He's getting on the plastic tower and that he ordered  
Imagine me, imagine me now (he's my collar)  
I don't take her number just don't think I'd call her (M: 2, you, you)  
He take me down to somewhere I been dreading all day (M: you, you, you, 2)  
In my system, I don't need no other (M: you, 2, you)  
This is my persona, secret lover (he's my collar)

He's the one I'm running with x3  
He's my collar  
 _//Together, with lots of breathing//_

Oh  
He's my collar

 _//Pant like a dog/_ /

 

That was their song. Their message to the world that they had no idea what they were and it was probably bad, but it was what they wanted. Each other. In some way or another. How would the world react to it? Most likely, just make up theories of the song's meaning. That was half the fun. Done and done. The song was recorded on an old dictaphone, in a hotel bathroom while wearing Murdoc's old ass cape. No better way to get this out. Stuart lied on the floor, panting and satisfied with himself. While enjoying a shower, he listened back to it, loving every second. Now the fun part; figuring out how to get this into an MP3 format. Around midnight, the others started filing in. Noodle first with food for anyone that would be hungry. She loved the vocals, encouraging 2d to forward them to Murdoc and Russel. If anything, to get them back at a reasonable time. Around 1:20 AM, Russel shuffled in with what appeared to be frosting on his face.

 

“Where did you go, big guy?” Noodle questioned, painting 2d's nails in metallic colors.

 

“I went to a Cinnabon with Jamie Hewlett. He threw down...ughhh...” He rubbed his face, kicking off his shoes. “I'm going to bed. Night guys.”

 

 

He slunk into his joint room and they heard him plop down on the bed. Noodle giggled, knowing that bed was never going to be the same. 2D smiled at his glossy nails then to the woman he helped raise.

 

 

“Thanks, Noodle. Ah think you're getting better each time.”

 

“Don't mention it.” She popped up and stretched. “Think Murdoc is coming back tonight?”

 

“Not sure. Did he say where he was going?”

 

“Where else? Some club, knowing him.” The small Japanese woman shrugged her tiny shoulders. “Konbanwa, Stu-Pot.” She waved and went off to the same room as her big, bald, foster dad.

 

“Night-y-Night!”

 

 

The moment she was gone, 2d went to text Murdoc again. Vanishing for hours-days-weeks-half decades at a time was nothing new for the geriatric rocker. It would be nice if he would at least call or text about the song first. In the middle of writing some kind of coherent thought, his phone bleep-blooped. Murdoc sent him an audio file and a smiley face. It was his _workable_ lines with a message.

 

'You got a computer, love. Let's go nuts. Be home in a tic.'

 

 

Why did he have to reply like that? Now, 2d would be over analyzing that stupid text until his brain hurt. So, about six minutes. Thank Satan for him, Murdoc sauntered his old ass in before it two in the morning.

 

 

“Told ya, I'd only be a tic.” He chirped, dropping his pants the second he entered.

 

“Y-you're back early.” His black eyes narrowed, suspiciously. “A-are you...sober?”

 

“Only a lil. I was at the studio, recording my lovely singing voice and formatting your lines. Think fast.” Murdoc waggled a memory stick before tossing it to 2d, only for it to bean him in the head. “Retard.” He cooed affectionately.

 

2d rubbed his face for a moment as his band mate left him to go take a bath. He was all about those lately for some reason. Chances are, that would get him in some kind of trouble someday. 2D pulled the audio files up on his laptop and got straight to work. A gross yet strangely erotic moan echoed from the bathroom.

 

 

“Mmmmaaaauuughhhhhhhhh....fuck. This is the best feeling since orgasms were invented.”

 

 

It was hard not to chuckle at such a strange statement. Did not make working on a kind of-sort of, love song any easier. Was this technically a love song? They weren't _in love_ and THIS was the closest they would probably ever get to a regular life. Even when they all shared a house together, it wasn't home. Murdoc was having a breakdown and basically just a troll dwelling in the basement while 2d worked a job he hated. Remembering all that hurt. So Stuart chose to forget it for now. It was time to focus on work! They needed another song for the album by morning if they wanted to keep their scheduled.

 

 

“I'll wait to be forgiven...”

 

 

A nasty voice broke his concentration. Why did Murdoc think he was a singer? Maybe this was his midlife crisis.

 

 

“Maybe I never will...ohhh my star has left me, to take this bitter pill...ahh daa daaa da da da da da daaaa...bum da daaa dum daaa...” He continued to hum the parts he did not know in that nasal tone. “You're by my side, but are you still with me? Waiting on the lawn again and I...uhhhh don't know if I can go into the sea again...”A bit louder, poorly mimicking 2d's tones. “I don't know if I can do this all again-”

 

“SHUT THE HELL UP IN THERE, MUDS!” Russel hollered from the other room, shutting the older man the fuck up.

 

 

“Heheh.” That faint giggle earned 2d a squishy bar of soap to the head.

 

“Don't you sodding judge me!”

 

“Ungh! Sod off, I'm working 'ere!” Another chunk hit him in the face. “That's it!” He stripped down to his underpants and ran to the bathroom. The sheer levels of British in the room was sickening. “Canon ball, bish!”

 

“NO! DO NOT—”

 

 

Murdoc did not finish his protest before all 62 kilograms of skinny, Cockney singer dropped into his bath! Water splashed everywhere as the two rough housed until both were exhausted. Nothing like an old fashioned wrestle to wind down at the end of the day. After the soak they both ended up on 2d's bed, even though Murdoc had his own. They each had their wireless headphones on as they edited the song together.

 

 

“Bring up the bass line at a minute and twelve seconds, drop it of at a minute and twenty-two, then bring it right back up to sync with the drums.”

 

 

Say what you want about the undersized goblin, he knew his music. 2d did as he was instructed and listened to the playback. Everything melded together magnificently.

 

 

“Sounds good. Can we get some sleep now?”

 

“Are you kidding? It's crap! Hand it over, I'll finish up. You get'yer winks.”

 

2d yawned shakily, getting under the covers. “A'ight. Good night, Murdoc.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, trying to get the right sounds for that one part for a good twenty minutes. The momentary silence did help him focus.

 

“...Why did we fight so much before?”

 

“Because you never shut up!” His voice cracked again, earning a tired giggle-snort from his whatever they were.

 

 

The next morning, they arrived at the studio with a complete song to show the others. Everyone listened and at first seemed to love it as much as Murdoc did.

 

 

“Nice, eh? Gets ya all nice and moist in all the right places? Eh?” He elbowed Damon Albarn in the chest. “Eh? Eh?”

 

“Yeah, it's pretty good.” A pause. “Except...”

 

 

The Gorillaz all leered at Damon together. What would he nit-pick? The electronica sound? Murdoc's shitty vocals?

 

 

“Except what, Albarn?” Russel towered over him, scaring The Clash members a bit.

 

“It's kind of...gay.” He winced his stupid, beautiful face.

 

The room fell silent. It was kind of a gay song but hey, look who and what it was based on. 2d rubbed his neck, side eyeing his mates. Murdoc was just so offended, he could not even find his words.

 

“So...me, the guys and Kali Uchis all came in early to slap dis together. We rewrote the song and I recorded my lines before bed. It's already done and shipped to the label. They loved it. Didn't change much at all. Same story but...not with you two.”

 

“It's call She's my Collar now.” Noodle interrupted, already listening to it on the computer with Russel.

 

“It sounds amazing, guys.” Russ reluctantly chimed in.

 

“Really? Let me 'ave a listen.” 2d put it on the speaker.

 

 

Shit. It was basically the perfect love song for this album. Damon Albarn and half of The Clash just took their song and buggered them with it. All his and 2d's hard work would never see the light of day. Fucking 2d himself had already forgotten their song for the new, hipper version.

The worst part was, it was better for the narrative than the real story. Murdoc kicked over all the small chairs while the others jammed out to the sick jam.

 

 

“The sound is amazing but what is that sound at the beginning?” Noodle was looping it from the beginning.

 

“Oh, I recorded this in my room, under my duvet. That's me throwing it over my head. Thought it gave it a fun touch.” Damon sounded quite proud of himself. Cocky bastard.

 

Star struck was hitting 2d this morning. “Wooow, that makes a lot of sense. I sung mine in the bathroom.”

 

“Now that is good for a stadium feel but this needed an intimate feel.” More cock in his words than have been in Murdoc's body.

 

“THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!!! JAMIE HEWLETT WILL HEAR OF THIS!”

 

 

Murdoc stormed out while the others praised Damon and The Clash for their contribution to music all over. Even if The Clash mostly just watched. She's My Collar would go on to be the seventeenth track on their new album, Humanz and would be loved by millions. Much to Murdoc's dismay. Maybe the world just was not ready for this side of his story. At least they had that potential new HQ to check out next week. Also the music video at that old house. No trouble would come from that.

 

 

 

End.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
